


A Private Moment

by Ariadne_Yemoja



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-24 19:53:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariadne_Yemoja/pseuds/Ariadne_Yemoja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A conversation between two "Privates"<br/>Not one of my best shorts, but it was in my head.  Hope you enjoy it anyway.</p><p>Spoiler Warning</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Private Moment

            Washington tossed his helmet at the foot of his bed disgustedly.  Without even thinking he had promoted Caboose of all people to lead blue team.  Simmons was wandering around the make shift base being held prisoner by Caboose’s pet decepticon.  Tucker was somewhere sulking.  Doc was somewhere patching up a broken Donut.  And Sarge was all too certain Washington was plotting to destroy the reds.  For once he was glad Grif was disinterested in everything. 

He flopped on the cot and placed his head in his hands.  He wasn’t sure where this all went to complete hell; he just knew he wanted to keep them safe.  He tried to slow his mind to a halt so that he could figure out how to deal with Freckles.  Instead he just kept hearing Tucker tell him they didn’t need him.  It was true really.  As insane, disjointed, and bumbling as they all were they had a weird way of getting things done.

His ears picked up the sound of booted feet coming towards the door jarring him from his thoughts, and he ignored it.  He decided at the moment whoever it was could go fuck themselves.  Right then everything in this gorge could burn down, and with Caboose in charge it probably would.  The footsteps stopped in front of him and he sighed angrily.

            “Go the hell away.” he ordered.  Instead of going away the armored feet moved to his side and plopped down beside him.  Washington didn’t look over; in fact he was considering pulling out his pistol and just shooting whoever was sitting there.  Nothing vital, but it would get the point across.  The former freelancer sighed again and finally looked up to see Tucker in a pose that mirrored his own.  It was a pose of defeat.  Tucker stared forward and folded his hands together; Washington could imagine a thoughtful expression beneath the aqua helmet.

            “You know it was funny at first.” Tucker started slowly.  “I knew Church would be all butt hurt if we told him how much better we were doing without him.”  The private pulled his helmet off and Washington watched as short black dreads fell around his mahogany face.  “But you know now, I just wish I was stuck in that stupid canyon staring at a bunch of equally bored red guys.”  Washington was silent for a long time and Tucker turned dark eyes towards him.

            “You… you’re black?” he stammered.

            “Way to kill a fuckin moment dick head.”

            “I’m sorry… I just… I never thought you were black.”

            “What?!  Should eat watermelon and chug grape soda?!”

            “No!  I didn’t mean that… I just…”

            “Anyway… the point is, I spent a lot of time wanting something to happen back in Blood Gulch.  Now I think I’ve reached the point where too much is happening.  You know what I mean?” Tucker asked.  Washington looked at his hands and nodded.  He remembered when the armor on his gloves was gray.  He loved that dark ash color, was so happy when he got it.

            “Yeah, I know what you mean.” he put his blonde head in his hands again.  “I just keep thinking what could possibly be next, and then I think I should never ask that question.”  Washington scratched his head absently and Tucker stared down at the floor.  Tucker stood, shoving his helmet back into place.  Just outside the shelter of the wreckage they could both hear Caboose yelling.

            “FRECKLES, NO!!!” his shriek was followed by a loud explosion and a cursing Sarge.  Tucker and Washington sighed together and after Wash pulled his own helmet back on, they turned to go put out whatever was sure to be burning.  Wash reached out and touched Tucker’s shoulder lightly.

            “Hey…” he said slowly.  Tucker turned towards him fully.

            “What?”

            “You know… you know I’m just worried right?  I don’t want to watch another good team get killed.” he said.  In the background you could hear Caboose frantically giving orders to Freckles.

            “Don’t worry, Wash.  Rest assured that even if this team dies it’s far from a fucking good one.” Tucker said with annoyance.  He walked out while Wash stared on.  The former freelancer looked down and picked up his rifle.

            “No… it’s a great one.” he whispered.

            “FRECKLES, STOP KICKING THEIR PUMA!!” Caboose yelled.  Washington smiled and headed towards the yelling.


End file.
